


Would You Like That With Nuts?

by MuiromeM



Category: Psych
Genre: Coming In Pants, Grinding, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sex and Chocolate, Smut, Valentine's Day, Workplace Sex, shassie week 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 00:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3361292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuiromeM/pseuds/MuiromeM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Shassie Week 2015, Bonus Day 2: Chocolate/Valentines</p><p>Lassiter gives Shawn a gift for Valentine's day, and just like everything else that involves his idiot boyfriend, things get out of hand. </p><p>But chocolate is, after all, traditional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would You Like That With Nuts?

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything rated even remotely higher than "Teen and Up", so I'm sorry if this is terrible or tagged wrong or something. I just wanted to write a one-shot for the Bonus day. When I saw the prompt my brain went right to hazelnut-chocolate spread, and that somehow led to smut of sorts. Oops.
> 
> Obviously, I don't own Psych or Nutella. And I'm sorry it's a little bit late!

Sweet scales of Lady Justice, he was never letting O’Hara talk him into anything ever again. Not ever. He’d staple a note of it to his forehead if he had to because anytime he listened to his partner, it always led to disaster.

Like the walking, talking, irritating disaster that was practically draped over Carlton’s desk right now. The same one named Shawn Spencer who had decided to wear tighter pants and a very nice plaid today, instead of his usual unkempt layers of potato sacks. The shirt looked like it had even been ironed, probably with Guster’s help, and Lassiter tried to ignore the fact that it made the green seem to sparkle in Shawn’s eyes.

He also tried to ignore the way Shawn was standing next to his chair with his back against the desk, and how his current position made his hips seem to jut out invitingly, just asking to be bent backwards against the pile of paperwork Carlton had stacked neatly that morning.

Of course, all those things would be easy enough to ignore on a normal day for head detective Carlton Lassiter; it wasn't so hard now, since he’d grown accustomed to Shawn’s antics over the years.

Except, it was Valentine’s Day, and Juliet had convinced him to get Shawn a present.

“Chocolate is traditional, you know.” she had said, when he’d asked her opinion the day before about what to get. That had obviously been his first mistake.

He normally wouldn’t have asked at all, but this was his first Valentine’s Day with Shawn as a boyfriend (not just a colleague), and Carlton had wanted to do something nice. Victoria had never liked his gifts, so he might have been just a _tiny_ bit worried about whether or not he should get Shawn flowers (did he like flowers?) or a card (would he appreciate the sentiment?), or something more unusual like a teddy bear or some kind of dinner reservation for two.

Alright, so he hadn’t been worried, he’d been _freaking out_ the whole week prior, until the day before Valentine’s when he'd finally broke. It was easier than he'd expected to ask his partner for help (partially due to O’Hara’s constant questions about his love life and how he and Shawn were getting on), and luckily Juliet had known Shawn’s taste easily.

 _Chocolate_.

Of course he’d like chocolate; the man was like a child half the time, always wanting to eat something bad for him. Lassiter had gone to the store that same night and picked up something he knew Shawn loved best, then decided to surprise him with it at breakfast the following morning.

He’d made pancakes, cut them into heart shapes (it was romantic, dammit- no one at the station needed to know except O’Hara), and then smothered them all in a decent helping of Shawn’s gift: a gigantic jar full of rich, thick Nutella.

If the look on Shawn’s face had been anything to go by, he’d loved the gift. If Carlton took into account the way Shawn had practically attacked him in the kitchen, smothering him in kisses and laughter, then Shawn had been _thrilled_ by the gift.

God, why hadn’t he just bought Shawn a box of chocolates like any normal boyfriend? That would have been better. Maybe less romantic and personal, but still better than his current situation. It would have saved him from a world of trouble, from having Shawn grinning so close to him, from listening to his boyfriend making low, passionate noises in the back of his throat-

It would have saved him from suddenly having embarrassingly tight pants in the middle of the police department, because Shawn had decided to _bring the Nutella to work._

Lassiter had been sitting at his desk, the station quiet and mostly empty because everyone else was out at lunch or had been permitted the day off, spending it with a loved one. There hadn't been any important cases to attend to that day; Lassiter only halfheartedly concentrated on the files that needed filling, thinking about whether or not all the restaurants in town would be too crowded to take Shawn out for dinner later that evening.

A commotion distracted him from his work as voices briefly filtered in from the front entrance; someone was arguing and Carlton didn’t need three guesses to figure out who. When he heard someone yell, “Shawn!” and then the sound of doors slamming shut, he rolled his eyes and assumed that Guster would not be coming over to bother him.

That only left Shawn and it was no surprise to the detective that his boyfriend wanted to stop by on Valentine’s day, probably to drag him from his work and out to lunch.

“ _Lassie~!_ ” Shawn’s voice came out with an even lighter, happier sing-song than usual as he said the name, sauntering through the bullpen. When Carlton looked up, he saw that the consultant was carrying the brightly labelled jar of Nutella that had been his Valentine’s Day gift in one hand, waving excitedly with the other.

Lassiter thought nothing of it, merely nodding his acknowledgement to the call before trying to get back to his files. If Shawn wanted to go to lunch, he wouldn’t argue because of the ocassion, but he needed to at least finish the file currently under his pen before he missed something important.

That idea was blown to hell before Carlton could even touch ink to paper.

Shawn came over and he didn’t sit on the front of the desk like usual; instead he came around next to his favorite detective to lean partially against it, ass situated just on the edge so he didn’t have to hold himself up. He seemed to be stretched out, legs slightly farther apart than was polite for mixed company, and his shirt was riding up just enough to give Carlton a sliver of skin to look at. The detective could see a hint of Shawn’s hipbones as the top of his jeans hung low, and if the lack of a waistband was anything to go by, the little shit had decided to forgo underwear.

Carlton swallowed hard and deliberately raised his gaze to lock eyes with his boyfriend. He cleared his throat. “Just a couple of minutes, I need to finish this before lunch.” he said hurriedly, trying not to think about the way Shawn seemed to be giving him bedroom eyes.

“But Lassie… I’m _hungry_.” he complained, fingers tapping against the jar they still grasped. “That boring paperwork could take ages.”

Carlton frowned and, probably reading his mind, Shawn gave a long-suffering sigh, as if the whole world might be out to get him.

“Okay man, but if that's the way you want to do it, I guess I’ll just have to be bad and spoil my appetite.”

There was a twisting noise and a soft pop, then the Nutella jar was open and Lassiter caught the scent of chocolate and hazelnuts before he even looked up. It smelled fantastic, the sweet aroma reminding him of warm breakfast kisses. He watched, rooted to his chair, as Shawn took in the scent with his eyes closed, mouth slightly open- like he was in a trance, having some kind of religious experience, or maybe…

“Mmmmm, _so good_ Lassie.”

Oh. 

 _Oh._ Lassiter knew that noise- definitely not a religious experience, then.

A breathy moan slipped out as Shawn dipped his middle finger into the creamy spread and brought it up to his lips. The pink tip of his tongue peeked out from his mouth, swiping just the tip over the chocolate on his finger. Shawn’s eyes fluttered closed once more and he licked his lips slowly, letting out a contented sound.

Carlton’s brain took that moment to remember that Shawn gave the same little moan, made the same pleased expression, when those lips were wrapped tight and wet around his cock, and heat suddenly pooled between the detective’s legs, blood heading south.

“Um Sh- _Spencer_ , you really should go uh, wait out front.” Lassiter tried to keep his voice steady but Shawn wasn't listening. He'd licked slowly up his finger, from base to tip, swirling his tongue around the end before dipping back into the jar for more. Another sigh, another lick, and then Shawn was making loud sucking noises, his cheeks hollowed out as he pushed his finger deeper into his mouth- _dear god that wasn’t necessary-_ and he’d pulled it back out, a thin trail of spit going from the tip back to his red, slick lips.

Lassiter tried valiantly not to groan, shifting in his seat as his pants became too tight, much too quickly. That only made things worse though, the fabric of his underwear and slacks rubbing lightly against his trapped cock in just a hint of pleasure and discomfort.

Carlton dropped his eyes from Shawn’s mouth, hoping to just ignore him long enough to finish his work but - _oh hell no_. His treacherous gaze had a mind of its own because Lassiter found himself staring between his boyfriend’s legs instead, watching as Shawn shifted his hips up in tiny, almost imperceptible jerks. The rigid outline of his clothed cock was clearly visible between those wantonly spread legs, a testament to Shawn’s own arousal in this strange game he’d started.

A game Lassiter would not likely win.

The reclining position Shawn had taken made the display all the more inviting, and the more he sucked and panted, the more he moved. The more he _moved_ , the lower his pants seemed to inch, exposing the trail of fine, dark hairs below his navel. Carlton found himself wanting to see those tight jeans slip lower, exposing the head of Shawn’s cock, flushed dark and red no-doubt. There was no underwear in the way today, just hot skin against denim, keeping Shawn trapped, pressing in all the right areas as he rutted up against nothing but air like he was desperate for touch.

Carlton’s cock gave a throb of want, pre-come already starting to dampen his boxer-briefs. It was midday in the heart of the station and here Shawn was, out in the open like someone in a whorehouse. They could be seen -they could be _caught_ \- and yet somehow that only made Lassiter harder, watching as Shawn rolled his hips from side to side without so much as a glance around the room to make sure no one was there.

The detective didn’t bother to hold back this time and he reached into his own lap surreptitiously, trying to adjust his aching length. His palm strayed, pressing against the bulge in his slacks for a moment, just to take the edge off the building pressure.

God it felt _good_ , squeezing himself while listening to Shawn’s groans of pleasure- the wet, spit-slicked noises as Shawn practically gave his own fingers the blowjob of a lifetime.

He wondered if Shawn was just as desperate yet; was he as hard as Carlton was? Would he already be leaking just from sucking chocolate from his own fingers, thinking about what the two of them could be doing if they were in private together?

Carlton licked his lips unconsciously; he wanted to see that. He wanted to see the stain of Shawn’s arousal on the fabric of his jeans, not even ready to cum yet and still so hard and throbbing, dripping with his need.

He watched as Shawn dipped into the dark treat again, adding a second finger like he was already greedy for more. “Don’t you want some, Lassie?” Shawn asked softly, breathily, like it was a secret and he _wasn’t_ in public- standing on display for anyone who might decide to return early from their lunch. “You can have a taste too you know. A treat from me, just for you.”

His face was flushed as he pushed himself from the desk, bending over Carlton like he was coming in for the kill. He’d cleaned off his fingers once again, thoroughly, leaving only a tiny shine of spit behind, and now he trailed the same hand over the detective’s clothed erection.

Lassiter choked back a groan, eyes fluttering closed for just a moment.

“I’ll give you a taste Lassie,” Shawn breathed against Carlton’s ear, squeezing the head of his cock, rubbing down the fabric to cup the detective's balls. He gave a gentle squeeze. “You can have yours with or without _nuts,_ too.” Shawn added, winking like the annoyingly attractive idiot that he was.

Carlton knew that if any blood was left in the upper part of his body, his face would have gone beet red. He tried to grab the Nutella jar from Shawn’s other hand, wanting to stop this before someone saw and arrested them both for public indecency, but he only ended up getting a blob of the chocolate on the tip of one finger.

“See, try some!” Shawn said brightly. He was grinning, knowing that he’d already won even as Lassiter tried his best to roll his chair out of reach. “Just one,” Shawn said, wrapping his fingers around Carlton’s wrist, “little…” he lifted the detective's hand up, eyes burning into Carlton's the whole time as he whispered, “ _taste._ ”

And then he promptly closed his lips around Lassiter’s chocolate-covered finger and sucked, flattening his tongue against the underside of the long, thin digit.

 _That_ made the detective’s cock twitch hard, his hips jerking of their own accord as he sucked in a sudden breath.

Shawn hummed, swirling his tongue around Carlton’s finger until all the chocolate was gone. When he pulled off with a sigh, panting like he was on the verge of taking his pants off right there at Lassiter’s desk, the detective finally intervened.

He jumped up from his chair, pulling Shawn up by the arm as he went. “You’re coming with me. _Now_.” he growled, practically dragging Shawn away from the bullpen and towards one of the more private, shadowed hallways that he knew would be empty.

Shawn didn’t protest, just followed along obediently, Nutella jar still in his hands. But as soon as Lassiter paused, trying to decide if the little alcove he’d chosen was hidden enough from prying eyes, Shawn took charge again and pushed him against the wall.

“Raincheck on lunch?” Shawn said, a decision more than a question as he muttered the words between soft kisses that he trailed along Carlton’s jawline. Now the detective _did_ moan, hot breath brushing past Shawn’s neck like a kiss of his own.

“You’re insane.” Lassiter finally said, holding onto Shawn’s waist for dear life as the consultant reached down to unbutton his dress pants. “You couldn’t have waited until later? At home?” He wanted to sound stern, to try and make Shawn realize how mad he was being- but the clever weasel had already undone Lassiter’s tie, opened his shirt, and chose that moment to suck hard on pale skin just under his collar bone. Carlton’s last question instead devolved into an incoherent noise of pleasure.

Shawn was grinding against Carlton’s thy all the while, the heat from his hard length bleeding through both their pants. “Nonsense, this is more fun.” he said cheekily between kisses. “Plus, we can still do stuff later.” 

Lassiter might have responded, but Shawn finished unzipping his pants and suddenly the consultant's fingers were circling his cock. Pushing, squeezing- palming long, slow strokes against the grey cotton of Carlton’s underwear.

“God, you’re so wet Lassie.” Shawn breathed, suddenly sounding about as desperate as Lassiter was. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re all perked up and ready for me. Guess the chocolate is just that good.”

Carlton dared to take his eyes from Shawn’s own and glanced down between them. His cock was jutting out, tenting his underwear obscenely and begging to be freed. This time he did feel the heat blooming across his cheeks and up his ears; he'd never felt so exposed before in his life, trapped against the wall of his very public workplace, barely even hidden from view with his obvious desire on display. Somehow, it made a shiver travel down the back of his spine, his body tensed in anticipation. 

But Carlton was spared the fear of some passerby getting an eye-full of his junk; instead Shawn decided to tease him, leaving the thin barrier his underwear provided in place. Instead he brushed the back of his knuckles up and down the underside of Lassiter’s cock again and again, trailing a single finger teasingly across the damp, sticky spot just over the head; a bead of pre-come still shiny there. He spread the moisture around, massaging it into the fabric and making Carlton’s hips try to grind forward for more. 

“Dammit Spencer…” Lassiter ground out. He pressed a few kisses against the side of Shawn’s neck, tried to change positions so he could have Shawn’s leg between his thighs- neither worked very well with the consultant pushing Carlton’s shoulders back against the wall. But Shawn graciously relented and lined their hips up instead, so they could rub against each other.

It was all Carlton could do to hang on for dear life.

The first drag of Shawn’s hips as their cocks pressed together made Lassiter worry he might blow his load before they’d barely even started. The slide was hard, rough from the fabric between them, but still so, so good. He'd never had a problem with stamina before, but somehow Shawn always knew just what buttons to push when he was feeling particularly frisky.

Still gripping Shawn's hips as they rolled against one another, a clatter broke Carlton’s thoughts away from trying not to come too soon; it was the sound of something hard hitting the floor, making all manner of ruckus. Next thing Lassiter knew, one of Shawn’s hands was on his hip and the other was brushing at his mouth.

“Taste.” Shawn practically purred the word into Carlton’s ear, a request and a demand, grinding his hips up deliciously and pressing his fingers against his boyfriend’s lips to force them open. Chocolate was smeared across Lassiter’s bottom lip and he finally gave in, licking the smooth substance away before sucking on Shawn’s fingers.

The friction below had him panting around the digits; the rough spark from their grinding feeling beyond amazing. There was so much heat and Lassiter knew that he was going to have a mess to take care of soon as more pre-come spurt out with each new thrust of Shawn’s hips, each hot word against his throat. The scrape of Shawn's stubble was going to burn later too, but in the moment Carlton only cared about the feeling of it on his jaw, just as rough and just as good.

“God yes, so close…” he was rolling his hips now too, just at the edge but not quite over. Shawn was murmuring things into his ear still, some of it coherent and filthy, the rest colorful curses and moans of pleasure.

“Fuck yes Lassie, ah- _right there!_ Harder, come on-” Always so talkative. He tightened his hold on Carlton’s hip and moved the other to pull gently at the curls on the back of the detective's head. “Want to taste you tonight, -mmm yeah, _do that again!_ I wanna lick you up just like chocolate and hazelnuts, Lassie. Maybe I’ll keep some for later? Spread it on you- _eat you up_. I’ll pump you hard and make chocolate milk.”

It was a ludicrous picture, but Lassiter felt another spike of heat, pressure building as his balls drew tight. “ _Messy._ ” he managed to choke out, head dropping back and hitting the wall with a dull thud. He was almost there, about to come in his pants just from grinding like a teenager, tasting sweat from Shawn’s skin and chocolate on his tongue.

Shawn just pushed their bodies together faster, the drag of his jeans bringing a hint of the good sort of pain as it pressed against the sensitive underside of Lassiter’s cock.

“I love messy.” Shawn responded, licking his way across the dip in Carlton’s throat. “Messy and hot and gooey… oh hell yes, I’m almost there. Forget lunch - _fuck, yes_ \- we can just go home. I'll tell the Chief you're sick and then we can stay in bed all day. Just you, me, and my special gift.”

The he leaned forward and smashed their lips together, far too coordinated for as uncontrolled as his body seemed to be. Shawn kissed passionately, just as he always did- impatient but good, like it was the difference between life and death somehow, and when he forced his tongue inside Carlton tasted  _chocolate._

The detective shuddered all over, everything finally too much for him. As Shawn rutted against him, the two of them still kissing, Carlton came hard, shaking as his cock throbbed and pulsed. He had to gasp for air as he shot over and over again, hot wetness spilling through his underwear in one big, dark patch. As Shawn kept going, frantically grinding against him on the edge of his own orgasm, his come was smeared between them, seeping into Shawn’s jeans and ruining them too.

“Oh _fuck!_ ” Shawn grunted out loudly and he finally came too, hips bucking erratically. He slumped forward, the wall somehow keeping both men from sliding to the floor in a contented, boneless heap.

The first coherent thought that came to Lassiter was that he and Shawn were both going to need to do laundry when they got back home, and hope to god that the come would wash out easy. The thought made him have to stifle a giggle.

For what might have been ages, Shawn remained pressed against Carlton's chest, mumbling incoherent praise against his shoulder. The detective just grinned sleepily, gently rubbing up and down Shawn's back in a similar manner to how they'd usually fall together after proper sex at home.  After a few moments of breathless panting, Shawn finally pulled himself away though, still holding onto his boyfriend for some kind of support.

“Looks like we need to clean up a bit.” he said shakily, looking at the obvious damage to their clothes. Anyone looking would know what they'd gotten up to- if the stains on their pants weren't enough, someone’s come had managed to squirt out hard enough to land droplets on Shawn’s shirt and Lassiter’s tie. While Shawn looked somewhat presentable from the waist up except for his kiss-swollen lips, Carlton's shirt and tie were still undone, and his hair had been quite thoroughly mussed. Shawn seemed to look him over with an appreciative stare.

"You look pretty debauched Lassie." he said with a triumphant grin. "Perfect for Valentine's day."

Oh yes, the two of them were definitely a mess now.

Ruined underwear still obviously on display, Carlton hurriedly zipped his pants back up, running fingers through his hair with a trembling hand in hopes of flattening it out. Shawn might be able to hide the come stains on his jeans, but the cooling wetness in Lassiter’s own pants wouldn’t likely dry soon enough not to seep into his trousers.

The detective glanced around in horror, suddenly aware again of how exposed they both were. “If someone sees us Shawn, I swear to god…” he broke off as Shawn bent down, his jean-clad ass on display, to retrieved the jar of Nutella that had started the whole thing.

“Don’t worry Lassie,” Shawn said, dangling the jar in front of himself teasingly. “there’s still some left. We can have round two later. Now let’s hurry up; Dobson usually gets back in two minutes, so you might want to hustle it before someone gets a peek.”

Then Shawn was high-tailing it towards the back exit, hips swinging happily, before Carlton could even protest. He just blinked dumbly, shaking his head and watching Shawn skip away. The man had to be crazy; definitely and impossibly insane, and yet Lassiter followed willingly after him, ducking corners and avoiding people he worked with every day because a simple gift had led to messy sex in the middle of his workplace.

But when he was safely away from prying eyes in the parking lot, fishing out his car keys, Carlton touched a hand to his lips (the taste of chocolate and hazelnuts still on his tongue), and grinned.

Maybe he would ask O’Hara for ideas more often.

  
  
  



End file.
